


White As Snow, Red As Flames

by Blue_fantasy



Series: The Grim Fairy Tales of Westeros [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Snow White - All Media Types
Genre: Alternative Universe - Snow White-inspired Story, F/M, Mostly Sansa, POV Third Person Omniscient, Snow White Elements, Written in a sing-songy fairy tale way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_fantasy/pseuds/Blue_fantasy
Summary: Jealous of Sansa Stark's beauty and fearful of Maggy the Frog's prophecy, wicked Queen Cersei orders the murder of her son's betrothed. Sansa Stark escapes her would-be murderer into The Neck, an impenetrable and mysterious place where she encounters friends who help her survive. Meanwhile, Theon Greyjoy, an ally of Sansa's brother and heir to the Iron Islands does everything in his power to try to rescue her from the wrath of the Evil Queen Cersei.
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Series: The Grim Fairy Tales of Westeros [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911610
Comments: 11
Kudos: 27
Collections: Grim Fairy Tales of Westeros





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Snow White-inspired Story AU set in the ASOIAF/GoT canonverse.
> 
> I blame this on gingersprites. Check out gingersprites Theonsa works here on AO3. They are REALLY good.
> 
> This story is not beta'd. All mistakes are my own.

__

Chapter I

A long, long time ago, longer than anyone can possibly remember, the Lady of Winterfell sat by her window with her sewing in hand. As she drew the needle and embroidery thread up and down through the work, she watched and listened as her son of three name days played boisterously with his bastard half-brother of the same age. At the thought of the latter, a melancholy swept over her.

She watched and worried as the boys bumped into furniture and knocked items to the floor. The boys’ caretaker, Old Nan, was snoring in the chair at the corner of the room, completely useless at the moment to calm their rambunctious antics.

“Nan,” the Lady Catelyn Stark of Winterfell called across the room. The old gray woman did not budge. “Nan!” 

Old Nan snorted with a startled movement. “Yes, m’lady?”

“Nan,” she said as she looked sternly toward the boys wrestling over a small carved wooden horse.

“Oh, yes, m’lady. Right away, m’lady,” the old woman answered and ushered the boys out of the room and down the castle halls toward their nursery.

“If I only had a little daughter I would be so happy!” Catelyn murmured, watching the snowflakes dance down from the sky through the window of her husband’s solar.

Lost in her dreamlike thoughts, she pricked her finger with the needle. A drop of blood fell on the linen which was as white as the snow outside. She looked before her at the warm red-orange flames licking around the logs that had just been set in the hearth. All these colors before the Lady of Winterfell were pleasing to her.

“How lovely my little girl would be with lips as red as blood, skin as white as snow, and hair as red as the flames in the hearth, as red as my own auburn locks,” she exclaimed, thinking she was alone.

“She sounds lovely, my sweetling,” she heard her lord husband speak. Startled, she turned to face him, her cheeks blushing in sheepishness. He walked across the room to her and leaned down, kissing her cheek and then, brushing her hair back, kissing her neck. “What if we try for that little girl now?” he whispered in her ear.

The blush spread from her cheeks to her ears to her neck as she nodded in agreement, looking into her lord husband’s eyes with a demure smile. He gently plucked her sewing from her hands and set it in the basket beside her chair. He then stood upright and offered his hand. She took it and let him lead her to their chambers.

⫷⫷⫷⫸⫸⫸

Months later, just after the boys’ fourth name days, a little daughter was born to the Lord and Lady of Winterfell and she was all her mother had desired. In the queen’s happiness, she dreamed of a wondrous life for her little girl, a life filled with joy and happiness, a handsome lord or prince to love and cherish her, and for the Mother to bless her with many healthy children. Lady Catelyn rocked her baby girl in her arms and imagined being a part of her daughter’s life through all these wonderful things. Little did she know, her happiness would not last much beyond her children’s childhoods.

“Little Sansa!” She said as she brushed her hand through the soft red fuzz on her daughter’s head. “Hair as red as flames. Kissed by fire. Skin as white as snow. A true princess of the North.”

Many years passed and the Stark family grew. The Lord and Lady of Winterfell had another daughter and two more sons. Eventually, another child joined them, a little lord of the Iron Islands named Theon. Upon Lord Stark’s return from victory over the Ironborn, he brought back as a ward, the heir to the throne of the Iron Islands. At first, the boy brought turmoil and tumult to their happy lives but soon he fell right in with the children. Life was peaceful and merry within the walls of Winterfell…

...until the day the King came to visit.

King Robert Baratheon brought a caravan full of his family and guards on the long arduous journey from King’s Landing to Winterfell for two reasons. One reason made the Lady of Winterfell extremely happy, the other made her desperately sad. King Robert wished for his son and heir, Prince Joffrey, to be betrothed to their daughter, Lady Sansa of House Stark. This was exactly what Catelyn had dreamed for her daughter, a handsome prince to wed and love her. But King Robert also wanted Lord Ned Stark to join him in King’s Landing as the Hand of the King, which would separate her from the love of her life and her dear daughters. She had not envisioned parting from Sansa at such a young age.

But sadly she could not convince her dear Ned to stay at Winterfell. Finally, one sad day, King Robert’s caravan left to return south and took half her loves with him--Ned, Sansa, and her youngest daughter, Arya. Days, weeks, and months passed. Word arrived in the North that King Robert had been killed by a boar while hunting. Lady Catelyn’s worries began to grow. The knowledge that someone had killed the previous hand of the king, Jon Arryn, only exacerbated her fears. 

⫷⫷⫷⫸⫸⫸

The Lord of Winterfell, the hand of the king, had watched his oldest friend die before his eyes. King Robert had made him Lord Regent for his son Joffrey until he came of age. 

But Queen Cersei, widow of the deceased King, had other plans in mind. She was very beautiful but unhappy. Her beauty only served as a mask for her cruel, selfish heart. In no time at all, she began plotting against Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. She tore the regency document signed by Robert into shreds before the court, essentially seizing the regency for herself.

It was but a short period of time before Lord Stark’s daughters were watching their father’s head roll before the Great Sept of Baelor. On that day, Sansa became a hostage and her sister Arya disappeared into the crowds of King’s Landing.

The vain Queen regent was jealous of all the lovely ladies of the kingdom that vied for the hand in marriage of each of her sons. Even though Joffrey was betrothed to Sansa Stark, this did not stop the ladies and their fathers from pushing into Queen Cersei’s good graces. Little did they know that the Queen regent kept an oracle locked away in the castle. 

Upon her marriage to Robert, Cersei had sent for Maggy the Frog to be brought to her, the same oracle that had used blood magic to tell Cersei’s fortune as a young girl. Maggy had told her she would not marry a prince but she would marry a king. This had come to pass. The fortune-teller confirmed that she would become queen. This, too, had come to pass. But Maggy told her another younger queen more beautiful than she would overthrow her, casting her down, and taking all that she holds dear. This made her fearful and suspicious of all the women who sought to marry Joffrey, not of all Sansa Stark.

She kept Maggy locked away at her disposal. She would climb the steps to the oracle’s room where she kept her locked away and each visit she asked the same question:

“Fortune-teller, who is the most beautiful in the Seven Kingdoms?”

If Maggy replied that Cersei was the most beautiful in all the Seven Kingdoms, her demeanor was sweet and gracious all that day long. But if Maggy ever named one of the other ladies of the realm, the Queen regent fell into a terrible fury and summoned her faithful brother to destroy her rival. Ser Jamie Lannister of the King’s Guard along with the help of the Clegane brothers faithfully dispatched the lives of these unfortunate women over the years.

⫷⫷⫷⫸⫸⫸

Meanwhile, Sansa Stark grew more and more beautiful. Her radiant smile and sweet nature had won the hearts of everyone except the Queen regent and her son, King Joffrey. The girl’s beauty alarmed Cersei. She could never allow Sansa to become more beautiful than herself.

She banished her to her chambers, only allowing her to dress in rags and unflattering dresses. Her hair was always done to the Queen regent’s specifications, in a horrid out-of-fashion style. She allowed her son, King Joffrey, to abuse the girl, leaving her with cuts that scarred and bruises that she had to make excuses for. As a hostage locked in a tower, Sansa Stark began to live in a world of her imagination. She began to dream of a different handsome young prince or lord or knight falling in love with her and whisking her off to his castle, far away from the torture she suffered at the hands of the King and far away from the wicked Queen. Sometimes she dreamt of a very specific young prince, a boy she had grown up with, one who could whisk her away to his island castle where no one could reach them. And he was a prince now that his father had declared independence and war against King Joffrey.

One morning she was praying in the Godswood, a privilege the Queen regent bestowed upon her to keep up appearances. She looked around and noticed she was alone except for her two guards who seemed preoccupied with the view of the ladies of the court enjoying a late morning meal in the courtyard far below, so she began to softly sing _Seasons of My Love_. As she got up from praying she walked over and sat on a stone bench near the rose bushes, continuing to sing and enjoy the peaceful surroundings.

It just so happened that while Sansa sat under the roses singing her song, a young prince who had been sent to treat with the king heard her voice. After the death of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and the assumed imprisonment of his daughters, his eldest son Robb had declared war on King Joffrey. His lady mother pleaded desperately with him to save his sisters and bring them safely back to the North. But, to her chagrin, he sent his closest friend and ally, Theon Greyjoy, to treat with King Joffrey and negotiate an agreement to return Sansa and Arya. 

Little did Robb know that Arya had disappeared long ago. But Theon had begun to hear tales of the beauty that Sansa had become. He thought if he could rescue her from King’s Landing, Robb might give him her hand in marriage. The day he arrived at the palace, he heard someone singing softly and beautifully from the Godswood. The voice seemed familiar and as he walking closer, he knew it was Sansa. As he rounded the rose bushes, he sang the next line of her song:

_I loved a maid as red as autumn_

_with sunset in her hair._

Quickly, Sansa stood up and turned around, finding herself face-to-face with the prince in her daydreams. She didn’t believe her eyes. He gave a polite bow and outstretched his hand, palm up. She placed her hand in his. He was real. She wasn’t dreaming. Relief began to wash over her at the thought he might be there to rescue her. Her cheeks blushed as he leaned down to kiss her hand.

“Theon, are you here to rescue me?”

He placed a finger over his lips and Sansa began to look around the Godswood for Varys or Littlefinger’s spies.

“I am here on behalf of your brother to negotiate the release of you and Arya,” he explained as she lost herself in his sea-green eyes. There was comfort in looking upon a familiar and friendly face from her childhood.

“Oh, but the Queen will never let me go and Arya has been missing since my father--” She looked over at the faceless Weirwood tree as she made a futile attempt to hold back her tears. She hadn’t cried since that terrible day. It was out of self-preservation that she did not outwardly mourn her father who was considered a traitor to the crown. But standing here in front of someone so familiar, someone who knows her father, she lost her battle to hide those feelings.

Theon reached up and brushed a tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb before she could get her kerchief up to her own eyes. Instead, she twisted it nervously between her hands. She hoped Theon would not notice the condition of her clothing or the bruising on her wrists from being held in place for lashings.

“What do you mean Arya is missing?”

“No one has seen her since but we cannot talk about this here,” she said as she began to nervously look around for someone listening.

But as she turned and looked back at Theon, she realized for the first time in a long time that she wasn’t so lonely. She was happy to see him. It was an unfamiliar feeling. She hadn’t felt happiness in a long time. As she heard approaching voices, she tucked her kerchief into his palm and wrapped his fingers around it, squeezing his fist tightly in her own as she looked silently into his eyes. As he clutched the small cloth, he smiled at her, that same crooked smile he gave back when they were children. Only this time, his smile seemed to mean something more intimate and affectionate. She returned his smile and pushed him back between the bushes. Then she ran off out of the Godswood in the direction of her guards who led her back to her prison.

⫷⫷⫷⫸⫸⫸

All the while, Queen Cersei had secretly watched this little display of affection from a window in a tower overlooking the Godswood. She turned pale with anger at the realization that all her efforts could not hide the beauty of this girl. She gathered the train of her gown over her arm and stormed through the stairways and corridors of the castle, past the two gold cloaks she paid handsomely with riches and women to guard her secret, finally reaching the chambers of Maggy the Frog.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cersei lays down her evil Plan A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick little update...enjoy.

Chapter II

“Fortune-teller, who is the most beautiful in the Seven Kingdoms?” The Queen regent spoke as she shut the door to Maggy the Frogg’s dark chambers.

A green glow appeared from a small bowl on a table in the corner of the room, casting the oracle in a green light as she leaned back into her chair, dark shadows encircling her eyes behind a veil of ragged hair. She hissed at the sight of her captor.

“Her lips blood red, her hair like a flame, her skin like snow, her name--SANSA STARK!” Maggy the Frogg croaked vindictively at Queen Cersei. And then the captive woman began to cackle and caw in laughter.

The furious Queen regent swept out of the room and down the stairs frantically. And though she knew she was getting farther from the old fortune-teller, her laughter did not go quiet in Cersei head. As she reached her brother’s chambers, she burst through the door screaming for him.

⫷⫷⫷⫸⫸⫸

Over the years since his return to King’s Landing, Jaime Lannister had learned to dread his sister’s summons. Before his time in captivity and his arduous journey alongside Brienne of Tarth, he would have taken no issue with carrying out his sister’s wishes and desires. But his years away from her and this place had changed him and not just by the physical loss of his hand.

He also knew he did not have much choice. Cersei’s madness, obsession, and cruelty would turn attention to him in no time. Possibly even toward Brienne, whom she had been suspicious of since their return, not understanding his fondness for the woman. He crossed the threshold from his privy to the main room of his chambers knowing she was about to ask him to end the life of another poor innocent woman.

Cersei stood fuming in the center of the room. He moved toward her with heavy feet and his head bowed to receive her command. As he stopped before her, she glared at him and turned sharply toward the table where she poured herself some wine. After a long sip, she turned back to him.

“Take Sansa Stark on a journey. Tell her you are taking her back to her family at Winterfell.”

Jaime waited, unsure if he heard his sister correctly.

“You want me to take her home?” He asked in surprise.

“No, you idiot. I want you to tell her you are taking her home,” she set the empty cup down firmly on the table and stepped inches from his face. “I want you to take her to the outskirts of The Neck, and return with her heart in the jeweled box that belonged to mother. I know you still have it here.” Cersei began searching the room for the one keepsake he had of their mother.

“Ah, here it is,” she exclaimed with a cruel smile, holding up the glittering box just the right size for a human heart.

⫷⫷⫷⫸⫸⫸

Little did the Queen regent know, but a spy had heard every word through the secret passage in the hearth and ran swiftly to Varys, telling him all Queen Cersei had said to her brother. Varys promptly dispatched the spy to get word to Theon Greyjoy to leave the city, for he may be the only one able to save Sansa Stark’s life along the King’s Road to The Neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> You kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks bring a smile to my face. Your comments keep me motivated and writing.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @sapphire-reverie


	3. III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The knight makes a choice and a familiar face comes to the rescue.

Chapter III

It was still the earliest hour of morning light when Sansa rode through the gates of the Red Keep alongside Ser Jaime Lannister. They were both cloaked and disguised as commoners for their journey along the King’s Road back to Winterfell. At first, she had been concerned that only Ser Jaime would be escorting her but when he told her of their plans, that there would be a party that would meet them ahead on the road as negotiated by her brother’s envoy led by Theon Greyjoy, she knew she had to try to trust him. This may be her only way out.

As they got beyond the sounds and stench of King’s Landing, she began to hear the birds singing. It had been so long since she had heard birds in the wild. It was like the sound of freedom. But as she glanced at the knight beside her, she was reminded she was not free yet.

She looked forward with dreamy anticipation to the moment Theon and his men would meet them on the road to escort her back to Winterfell. It had been a long time since she had seen him and he was more handsome than she had remembered. And the way he looked at her, she thought just maybe he felt something for her in return. Maybe her brother would allow them to marry. Then she would have the protection of Theon and the Ironborn. The evil Queen Cersei and her horrid son could never hurt her again.

Still, something in the back of her mind bothered her about the logistics of this plan. Something was not quite right. But the natural beauty and wide-open spaces of the road before her gave her a sense of freedom that was euphoric and hard to overcome with worry and fear.

⫷⫷⫷⫸⫸⫸

As their journey progressed, Jaime couldn’t help but watch and observe the girl riding along at his side, a delightful smile upon her face as she looked out upon the wide-open world around them. He could not understand why his sister felt so threatened by her, so much so that she would have him kill her. All this girl wanted was to be back safe with her family, safe within the walls of Winterfell.

He had intended to kill a Stark child once before, within those very walls of that Northern keep. And every time he thought about it now, relief swept over him at his failure. Something had changed inside him on the road from Riverrun to King’s Landing. His time in the company of someone so righteous and loyal and good had changed him. Brienne had changed him. He would truly burn in seven hells if he killed this girl.

Even worse would be having to face Lady Brienne as she searched desperately for the girl in an attempt to fulfill her oath the Catelyn Stark all the while knowing she was dead and that he had killed her. That shame alone might drive him mad.

But if he failed Cersei, she would surely arrange his murder, most likely at the hands of her hired gold cloaks. Or maybe she would send him down into the dungeons the Qyburns little lair for him to experiment on him with his dark magic. He imagined Brienne searching ceaselessly to find him, all the while, the evil queen laughing at the futility of her quest. And even then, it would not stop Cersei from devising some evil scheme to end Sansa Stark’s life. It would be a mercy if he killed her himself, quickly and quietly.

As the days drew on and they made their way from the crownlands, through the Riverlands, and began to approach the swamps of The Neck, Jaime Lannister thought less and less of killing the girl.

Entering the damp marshy forests that acted as a gateway to the North, Sansa Stark dismounted to examine the flora.

“You know, the only other time I rode through The Neck was in King Robert’s caravan. I had been riding in the Queen’s wheelhouse and could barely see a thing from the small windows,” the girl spoke as if to no one in particular. He dismounted as well, letting her have this time and attempting to steel himself for the dreadful task ahead.

She explored the mosses and flowers growing in this unique habitat. He watched as she knelt to pick up something gingerly in her hands. Turning toward him, he could see a frightened little bird cupped in her hands as she cooed to it softly in an attempt to calm the creature. Her eyes still on the bird, she turned back toward the moss where she had found it.

Jaime clutched at the dagger at his side, hidden under his cloak, the one Cersei had handed him before he departed the Red Keep, the same blade that had been used to attack Catelyn Stark, so he had been told. It was all so very poetic and it showed his sister’s penchant for dramatics. He steeled himself, shoving down all his empathy for the girl and all his doubts for his sister. As he silently moved across the mossy ground toward her, he slowly lifted the dagger. But just as he loomed over her, the sun broke through the grey mist of The Neck and cast his shadow upon the large rock next to the Stark girl.

Sansa sprang up with a cry and turned to face her attacker. The dagger fell to the ground at her feet. As the knight looked into her ice-blue eyes, full of innocence and fright, he felt something wet drip down his cheeks. He was crying. He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried.

“I cannot kill you even though it is the Queen’s command. My sister, she is mad, mad with jealousy,” he trembled. “She is jealous of you. Quick, little wolf, run, run away and hide before I change my mind.” He held out his shaking hands between them, her eyes focus on them.

“Run into the forest and never come back!” He shouted at her, the tears streaming down his face as he clawed at himself with his fingers in his own fit of madness.

As she stood frozen with fear and confusion, Jaime grabbed the reins of her horse, mounted his own, and turned back south down the King’s Road, riding as fast as he could to separate himself from the girl before he could change his mind. He knew she might die alone by herself in the treacherous swamps of The Neck, but at least she had some chance of survival. Her death wouldn’t be at his hands.

He rode hard back down the path on which they had just journeyed. He rode so fast, he lost all track of time. Had he ridden for hours? Days? He couldn’t be sure. But he knew he could not return to the Queen with an empty box. As he thought of his troubles, an animal darted out onto the road before him and froze, lifting its majestic head to look right at him. He pulled on the reins to slow the horses. 

A stag. How fitting. As the animal stared him down, he unsheathed his sword and charged, killing the animal in one fell swing. After some time dragging the carcass behind both horses into the woods to hide, he cut the heart from the beast and placed it into the box. He held it for a moment, a flash of memory crossing his mind. A glimpse of a woman with strands of golden hair and emerald green eyes. He thought for just a moment he could smell her again. He closed his eyes and felt the ghost of a gentle thumb brush the wetness from his cheek.

He sucked in a deep breath, released it, and mounted his horse as he slowly continued his return to King’s Landing.

⫷⫷⫷⫸⫸⫸

Sansa found herself alone, filled with fear, tears blurring her vision as she ran deep into The Neck, on and on through the marshy ground. Soon she was so deep in the swamp, the trees so thick above her, moss draping from branches all around her, that not a ray of sunlight could penetrate down to where she found herself. Barely able to see in front of her, she tripped over tree roots and slowed each time her foot was suctioned in the mud. She felt her cloak catch on something, yanking her backward as she let out a scream. It was as if some creature were clutching at her. The shimmering eyes that appeared before her in the dark struck a deep terror in her heart. Everything around her seemed menacing, chasing her farther from the King’s Road.

As she ran faster and faster, she lost her footing and fell face-first into swampy waters. As she came up out of the water, found herself sliding down a muddy slope, rolling into a small clearing, a sliver a light shining between the trees above. As she lay there, she continued to sob uncontrollably, wrapping her arms around herself and curling into a ball as she shivered.

Floating in and out of consciousness, Sansa thought she was dreaming when she felt something warm and wet press against her ear.

“Lady,” she spoke as she raised her head. But it wasn’t Lady. Lady was gone. She squinted her eyes to get a better look at the wolf before her.

“Nymeria,” she said as the wolf gave a low growl and nudged her affectionately. “Oh, Nymeria.” Sansa wrapped her arms around the creature, who went stiff at the embrace but then softened and leaned her weight into Sansa.

Soon, she realized they were not alone. All around them were wolves, both large and small, peeking out from the trees and hesitantly making their way toward them.

“Oh!” Sansa said in surprise. The wolves jumped back, some baring their teeth. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.” She spoke softly as Nymeria turned to the other wolves with a series of growls and small howls. Soon, all the wolves made their way around them forming a protective circle.

“I am so sorry I frightened you,” she spoke as if the wolves could understand her words as she wiped away the last of her tears. “I’m so ashamed of the fuss I made.”

Nymeria nudged her again at that and when Sansa looked the direwolf in the eyes, she saw something even more familiar there. She saw sadness. She saw sympathy and pain, as the eyes of a human.

“Everything has just gone so terribly wrong,” she said as she stroked the wolf behind her ears. Nymeria’s eyes closed in pleasure at the contact and then she let out a mournful howl. The other wolves followed suit.

Sansa smiled at their sorrowful song. There was comfort in it as if her sister were there with her right at the very moment. The same sister she had wished away so many times as a little girl was the one she wished to be holding in that very moment. Nymeria would have to do.

“I don’t know what I’m to do, Nym,” she spoke softly into the wolf’s fur. “I am free and away from those horrid Lannisters and that evil Queen. This is far better than being locked up in the Red Keep, especially now that you have found me. But I do need shelter, a place to spend the night.”

She pulled back from the direwolf and looked into her eyes. “Maybe you know where I can stay? Maybe there is a cabin somewhere nearby in the swamp? A crannogman’s frogging hut?"

With that, Nymeria’s eyes lit up. She howled at the other wolves and soon they were off through the woods, Nym turning as if to wave Sansa on to follow them. Sansa found herself once again trudging through the darkness of the forest, but this time the terror and fear were gone with her sister’s direwolf at her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> You kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks bring a smile to my face. Your comments keep me motivated and writing.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr @sapphire-reverie

**Author's Note:**

> Character Equivalent List  
> (will add more as they appear in the story)
> 
> Snow White - Sansa Stark  
> Evil Queen - Cersei Lannister  
> The Prince - Theon Greyjoy  
> Magic Mirror - Maggy the Frog  
> Huntsman - Jaime Lannister  
> Snow White's parents - Ned & Catelyn Stark  
> The people of the castle - Varys and his spy network  
> The forest animals - Nymeria and her Wolfpack


End file.
